


The Big One

by smooth_operaptor



Series: Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [2]
Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Praise Kink, Self-Doubt, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooth_operaptor/pseuds/smooth_operaptor
Summary: They didn't win the Big One. Chuck worries and Trent shuts him up.(takes place after they challenge Kenny and Hangman for the belts on Fyter Fest Night One)
Relationships: Trent Barreta/Chuck Taylor
Series: Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052237
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	The Big One

**Author's Note:**

> guess I'm gonna write porn from now on, my writing flow has never been this easy/chill lmao  
> i have a few ideas for where to go next, but feel free to suggest something in the comments

They slump down together at ringside after the match. Aubrey tries to usher them away, but they stay. They are just out of view of the cameras, and the champs celebrate in the ring.

Chuck taps Trent’s knee and nods towards FTR.

“You think those guys got real beer?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“What? No way, man, they wouldn’t let _us_ have real alcohol, why should they get-“

“Jericho gets real champagne.”

“Oh, rub it in, why don’t ya.”

They catch their breath some more. The July heat and the heavy lights on the ring are frying their brains.

“If they are getting paid to get drunk _and_ get the beers for free, obviously I’m doing something wrong.”

“Maybe they brought them from home.”

“Ha yeah, they’re shitty little old school guys, they probably brewed that themselves in a basement somewhere.”

“Probably tastes like ass, then.”

There’s some drama happening in the ring and then Kenny’s pouring out his bottle.

“C’mooon, man! There’s a no spitting rule! That _has_ to extend to that gross-ass piss beer.”

“He didn’t spit it, though.”

“Fuck _you_ , you know what I mean.”

“Alright. Better leave before they make you clean it up then.”

  


* * *

  


They make it through the rest of the night, check up on Orange, shower, pack up their shit and drive to the hotel with Sue. Her visit was planned on such short notice, she has to sleep in Trent’s room, while they’re both in the other.

“You boys did great tonight!” Sue smiles at Trent and pets his cheek.

“Thank you, mama,” Trent answers and bends down to hug her. Chuck stands a step away, sandwiched between both of their luggage. He reaches out and grabs the handle of Trent’s suitcase to make sure it doesn’t fall over. A blast of cold air hits him from the AC above. He starts staring at his shoes.

Trent whispers to his mom, kisses her on the cheek, and turns back to Chuck. His hand is suddenly warm on Chuck’s, squeezing it once to get control of his suitcase back. Chucks hand falls back to his side.

“Sleep well, boys!” Sue says as she opens the door to her room.

“Good night Sue,” they answer her, before entering the room next door.

They set down their bags and get comfortable. Their shoulders touch as they lay back in amicable silence on the bed. They didn’t win the big one. They are not the champions.

Chuck stands up to get some booze.

  


* * *

  


After four White Claws, he convinces Chuck to get the hell off twitter. They take turns getting ready in the bathroom and finally settle into bed.

He hears Chuck tossing and turning for upwards of an hour. In the end, he reaches over to put a hand on his shoulder in an effort to still him. Chuck freezes.

They lie like that for a few minutes and Trent is almost sure they can finally get some sleep, when Chuck speaks up.

“You think we’ll ever get another chance?”

Trent turns to face him fully. He studies Chuck’s face in the low light streaming in from the windows. Eyebrows anxiously drawn together and he’s chewing on his lip. He sighs.

“Yeah man, we’re over, sooner or later it’s gonna happen again.”

“Orange is over. We’re- I- _You_ could be a great singles wrestler.”

Instead of answering, Trent props himself up on his elbow and looks at Chuck, who doesn’t meet his eyes.

“They’ve already moved past us, they’ve got FTR and then the Bucks coming up, who knows when we get to do this again.”

Chuck is staring away from him to the door.

“We’re gonna get a couple wins on Dark, and then we’re getting fed to someone bigger than us on a Wednesday. And of course, happy to do that, we’re getting paid either way, but…”

Chuck trails off but Trent can sense his train of thought accelerating. He sits up a bit more and puts a hand on Chuck’s chest. Chuck’s eyes snap to his.

“Are you done man? Are you finished?”

“I-“

“Shut the hell up, dude.”

Trent knows he won’t just stop. It’s not that deep in the night yet, Chuck’s got energy to be self-deprecating into the hours of early morning.

This calls for drastic measures.

“Are you gonna go sleep if I get you off?,” he asks and slowly moves his hand down Chuck’s chest to underscore his point. He makes it a couple inches before Chuck catches his wrist and he stops.

It’s kind of hard to read expressions now that he’s moved and his shadow is blocking out his partner’s face, but they’re staring at each other until Chuck blinks.

“Fine,” he guides Trent’s hand a bit lower before letting it go completely, “Please.”

Trent wastes no time and palms his dick through the cloth of his underwear. He gets a little hitch of Chuck’s breath in return and not much more.

“Dude you looked so good in the ring today,” he says and Chuck laughs. Trent pushes the waistband down and strokes him until he’s half hard.

“Good boy,” he says and Chuck makes a small sound. He looks up from his ministrations and to see him throw up his arm to hide his face. Gotcha.

He returns his attention to Chuck’s dick and grabs it loosely. It’s hot in his hand and getting harder by the second. He starts stroking him with a light touch, careful with the friction.

“Man that was really hot when you slammed those two guys into each other on the outside. Made you look _strong_.” He reaches up to grab Chuck’s arm and caresses the bicep. He hears a breathy chuckle.

“C’mon, let me see your pretty face,” he says and guides Chuck’s arm aside. They look at each other and Trent can see the calculations going on in his head. If Chuck protests the compliments, he’s super going to ruin the moment. Trent gets a sheepish smile instead. He desperately wants to kiss him then and there, but he has a job to do.

“I love your smile,” he admits and swings a leg over and between Chuckie’s to sit up. He moves his hand from Chuck’s bicep to his cheek and touches the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

“Lick my hand,” he says and holds it out for him. They share an intense look through his splayed fingers.

Chuck licks a broad swipe over his palm. The contact goes straight to his cock. He shifts his stance and Chuck presses his thigh up against his crotch. Trent hums as Chuck continues to lick his hand.

“Thank you, baby,” Trent tells him and goes back to his dick. He grips it more firmly this time and gives a couple tentative pumps. He hears Chuck sigh softly.

He starts on a more consistent rhythm, stroking up the shaft and finishing with a small twist. At first he doesn’t even notice when he picks up the movement and starts grinding himself down lightly on Chuck’s thigh to release some pressure. Chuck is warm and firm and fuck, he needs to kiss him right now.

He leans over, Chuck moves up in a half-sit, and they are meeting somewhere in the middle. It’s slow and tender, they’re in no hurry. When they move apart, it’s only an inch, and they are breathing each other’s air.

“You worry too much,” he tells Chuck, who casts his eyes down.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Trent kisses him again, “I _am_ right.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss and a stroke of Chuck’s dick.

“I am right when I tell you we did good in the ring and I am right when I say you look pretty with my hand on your dick.”

Chuck groans and he strokes him again, this time swirling his thumb over the tip and smearing his pre-cum all the way down his length.

“Let me hear you again, baby,” he says and his movements get more insistent. Chuckie gives him a cut-off moan.

“That’s it, be loud for me, baby, don’t worry about my mom in the other room.”

Chuckie splutters under him.

“What the fuck, Trent, now I _am_ gonna worry about it! Thanks a lot, dickhead.” Before he can wriggle free, Trent laughs at him.

“I said don’t worry, the walls are thick enough,” he says but earns a sceptic look. “You didn’t hear me last time we stayed here, did you?”

“No… what did you do last time we stayed here?”

Trent shrugs at him.

“Thinking about you while jacking off.”

Chuckie stares at him, slack-jawed, then rolls his eyes and grins at him.

“God _damn_ you, Trent,” he sighs, “I love you.”

They kiss. Trent squeezes his thigh and breaks away.

“Love you too.”

Chuckie makes grabby hands at him until he complies and shrugs off his underwear. He takes off Chuckie’s as well and throws them over the side of the bed.

Chuckie puts a hand on his pec, then trails it over his shoulder and pulls him down by the back of the neck to kiss him again. Trent grabs both of their dicks with one hand and braces himself with the other. He starts stroking again and it feels so good to slide against each other. Chuckie joins him with one hand and the touch is electric.

“Babe, you feel so good, all slick and messy for me,” he murmurs and finally Chuckie moans.

“Thank you, baby, do that again for me?” he whispers and starts and quickens his pace. Both their pre-cum is not quite enough to ease all the friction, but the burn is delicious, it’s perfect. He catches some of Chuckie’s moans with kisses, but they are too beautiful to contain.

He tells him as much and Chuckie nearly comes.

“The next time we win big, I’m gonna make you scream when I fuck you,” he pants next to Chuckie’s ear.

Chuckie bites his lip when he comes, hot spurts over Trent’s chest, but eventually he lets out a string of beautiful curses. Trent continues to stroke him through his orgasm as he chants his name under his breath.

They stop and look at each other, panting. Chuckie licks his lips as if to catch the last taste of Trent on them. He nods his thanks.

“Let me finish you off,” he says and rolls them over.

He quickly licks his hand and starts stroking Trent’s dick again. Then he leans forward and licks his own cum off of Trent’s chest.

Trent gets a quick kiss on his sternum, then Chuck starts on his nipple, teasing the other with his free hand. He matches the rhythm of his tongue to the pumps of his hand and pleasure shoots through Trent’s whole body.

Chuck’s technique is different than his own and Trent thinks back to the last time he jacked off alone and missed his hand. There’s a tingle deep in his abdomen and he reaches down to clasp Chuck’s hand on his dick. Not to guide him, just to feel him there. He arches off the bed as he comes. They kiss as the last bit of his orgasm shudders through him.

They lie there, side by side again. More even than after the match they had, they feel bone tired. 

They clean up with some tissues and settle in on their sides to look at each other.

“I feel like you’re _never_ that nice to me normally.”

“What are you talking about? _You’re_ always just mean.”

Chuck huffs somewhere in the dark and flops on his back.

“… Can your mom drive me to the airport tomorrow?”

Trent reaches out an arm and pulls them together so they’re spooning.

“Sure, I’ll ask her.”

They will sleep well tonight.


End file.
